


Match Me

by Kasuchi



Category: How I Met Your Mother
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-07
Updated: 2010-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-17 10:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasuchi/pseuds/Kasuchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"It's okay," he murmured soothingly. "This suit's the one I use to comfort crying women anyway."</i> Barney and James run a matchmaking service. Ted is their latest client, and Robin's their latest hire. Hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Match Me

**Author's Note:**

> Take two parts HIMYM, one part _Tough Love_ , add _Hitch_ for flavor, a dash of chick-lit, a little _Nip/Tuck_ for garnish, and what do you get? A total crack AU in an "all the best parts" format.

**Boisterous day, today. Try not to be much more irritating than is absolutely necessary.**

So, let's start at the beginning. One misty afternoon, Barnabus Zechariah Stinson was born, and there was--

Okay, no, let's fast-forward a little.

Barney was 23 when Shannon dumped him, virginal and heartbroken. In the months that followed, Barney would undergo an amazing, horrifying transformation from a man-boy to an unrepentant cad, and there was much screaming. (All of the good kind, we swear.) 

Barney's older brother, James, followed suit (heh) soon after, taking on suits and scotch and womanizing. Well, except James was (and continues to be, just for reference) gay, so it was more like man-manizing. So. 

However, it was during this period that Barney discovered a wonderful talent. He was an amazing wingman. A wingman to render all other wingmen impotent! Such power must be used for good. After all, it was Uncle Ben's final message to Peter Parker, right? (That was such an awesome movie, by the way.) 

So when James suggested that he and Barney do exactly that - use their powers for good, not watch _Spider-man_ , though they did that, too, just not during this story - Barney knew that his hospitality management degree from Cornell would prove its usefulness.

And so, **Match Me** was born, a wingman and matchmaking service for young single people in New York. (The matchmaking thing was James's idea. Barney would rather have been helping people get laid, but James was all, "No, powers for good remember?" And that was the end of that.) 

And, well, two years into the company, Barney found that...he really liked introducing people to each other. He liked getting laid fine, sure, but he also liked seeing that first spark of two people meeting. (Not that he liked to advertise this. Well, unless it was to get laid. But, no, he had an image to keep up, thank you very much.)

So, that's how six years after Shannon dumped him and four years after starting Match Me, Barney met Ted and Robin and Marshall and Lily. And the rest, as they say, is history.

**A very short and hairy person will bother you today. Unfortunately, you will be unable to ignore them, try though you might.**

James handed him a folder. "This is our next client. Please at least _pretend_ to read this one? He seems like a good guy."

Barney took the manila file folder and glanced through the profile. "Aged twenty-eight, architect for a large firm in New York, scores high on sweet-romantic and unrepentant moron." Barney raised his eyebrows. "We should probably update these forms."

"Nah, they're for internal use only."

"Sure, but you saw what happened to Altrucel when their files were raided by the SEC. I don't want that to happen to us." 

"Barney, we are a boutique LLP. The SEC couldn't care less about us."

"So, when's Mosby coming in?"

"Uh, in about thirty seconds."

Barney leveled a dark stare at James. "James. I told you not to do that anymore."

"Well, I told you to stop sleeping with our staff. Honestly, it's the fifth assistant we've had to get from the temp agency this quarter."

"Well, it's not my fault that Happy Time keeps sending over hot ones."

"It totally is your fault because you keep requesting them!"

"James, nobody wants to see an unattractive person manning the front desk of a _matchmaking service_. Remember when we had that Dana girl?"

"She was sweet!"

"She is now a he and goes by Daniel!"

James grabbed the folder back from Barney. "Whatever. Look, are you going to do the interview with me or not?"

"Don't I always?"

"Yeah, yeah." 

They filed into the interview room and sat on one side of the table, facing a medium-sized chair, plush and comfortable. They settled in, buzzed the receptionist, and exchanged glances. 

"You wanna ask it this time?" James raised an eyebrow at Barney.

"It's your turn." 

James nodded as Ted entered. Compared to the suited Stinson brothers, Ted Mosby was remarkably casual in jeans, a screen print tee, and a brown jacket with reinforced elbows. His black hair was styled in a carefully designed bedhead, and his expression was nervous. 

"Sit down, please, Ted," Barney greeted, gesturing to the chair. Ted sat in it ramrod straight. Barney resisted chuckling. Every damn client was like this. 

"So, Ted," James started, opening the file folder. "Tell me what kind of person you're looking for."

**You are about to have an idea of almost mind-boggling brilliance. Try to remain calm.**

"Our success rate is down."

"So there's a dry spell." Barney shrugged, sipped his bottled water, and clicked through a spreadsheet.

"There are eight million people in New York, most of whom are single."

"Or children," Barney pointed out noncommittally. 

"Or children," James acknowledged. "But the point is, we're slowing down. We need something new, something shiny to make our clients feel like all of that money they're paying us is actually working for something."

Barney turned away from the screen and folded his hands on the table. "Something new?"

"Something new." James folded his arms across his chest and waited.

There was a long pause. "How many wingmen do we have right now?"

"Well, Dave just left to go get married, so we're in the market for a new one."

"Let's get a chick."

"You want...a wingwoman? Seriously?"

"Just make sure she's hot, James." Barney turned back to his computer screen, but this time he was playing hearts.

**You will meet someone who you haven't seen in a long time, and will barely recognize them. At least not without the spiked collar and the whip.**

"Robin...Scherbatsky?"

She nodded. "It's Russian."

James glanced at the file. "And you're a news anchor?"

"Anchor by day, single lady on the prowl by night." 

"I see. Metro One News. Local channel?" 

"Yeah. It's a good gig, and we get some crazy stories." 

"So why do you want to be a wingwoman for Match Me?"

"I've seen you guys out from time to time. I like the work, and I think I've got a knack for getting the guy the number. Plus, I'd love to help your lesbian clients find good matches." 

James's phone buzzed. "Would you excuse me for a second? I need to take this call."

Robin nodded. 

James stepped out into the hallway and answered. "Yes, Bee?"

"She's hot, kinda spunky, and she's on TV. I like her."

"You wanna take her out for a spin tomorrow night?"

"Sure. She can tag along with me and Ted. I'll see what she's like in action."

"Sounds good. By the way, aren't you so glad we installed those CCTV cameras in all of the interview rooms?"

"So much less obvious than the one-way glass. I'll see you in seven." Click.

 **Today will be mostly OK, except that you'll learn to pay more attention in the future to the phrase "Careful, filling is hot!."**

"Have you met Ted?"

The minute Ted and Robin looked at each other, Barney knew he was in trouble. That was the _we are clicking_ look, the one that customers paid him to find the person for. Robin was supposed to be test-driving her new wingwoman-in-training status, not falling for her first John. Well, Ted, in this case, but still!

"Hey," Ted said, and smiled.

"Hey, yourself," Robin replied, grin threatening to crack her face in half. 

Barney rolled his eyes and pushed Robin forward. "And these are Marshall and Lily, Ted's lame married friends."

Marshall waved with his right hand, his left one entwined with Lily's. "Hello. We're actually engaged, not married yet." Lily held up her left hand, letting the diamond glitter.

Off to the side, Barney massaged his temples. He really hated meet-cutes.

(James insisted that Barney actually loved them. Barney denied wholeheartedly, but the truth was...yeah okay he kind of sort of loved them a little bit. Okay, fine, a lot a bit.)

**You will discover a secret about the Spice Girls - most of them can't tell Cumin from Coriander. In fact, some of them are vague about whether Black and Red Pepper come from different types of plants. You will quite sensibly decide to avoid going to their place for dinner.**

"You guys _licked the Liberty Bell_?"

"Yeah," Barney replied, like it was no big deal. He buffed his nails on his Hugo Boss and inspected them in the warm light of the bar.

"It was awesome!" Marshall enthused. Lily looked overwhelmed.

"I call bullshit," Robin declared, staring down Ted.

Ted shrugged. "It kind of tasted like cumin."

**You will finally get the television exposure you've been wanting, by organizing a group of protesters to block the entrance to a physics lab, holding crudely-lettered signs saying "Down With Gravity!."**

"This isn't really a training and bonding exercise for your team, is it?"

"Nah, I was bored and you didn't have any clients scheduled tonight."

Robin shrugged. "Yeah okay. You wanna go to the cigar bar after this?"

"...There's no way you're real." 

She grinned and cocked her laser gun. "Ready when you are, boss." 

Later, they tumbled into her apartment, laughing, and she threw her keys onto a side table. "I'm gonna put on a pot of coffee, you want any?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied. She stripped off her coat and threw it onto a chair, headed to the kitchen without even breaking her stride. Barney's own OCD kicked in and he picked up her coat and put it on a hanger in the entry closet, his own coat laid neatly across the back of a straight chair.

He heard the _whoosh_ of a coffee machine starting up and glanced at...an empty kitchen. "Robin?"

"Dude!" She called, voice muffled by a half-closed door. "Check it out!" She emerged from the recesses of her place with a colorful box in hand.

"Is that...Battleship?"

"Yes!"

He smirked, rolling up his sleeves and loosening his tie. "Oh, you are _so_ on."

They played four games and fell asleep on the couch together, shoulders bumping into each other. 

**Don’t let your ego get in the way of important friendships this week. You’re better than that. Much, much better than that.**

She burst into his office and slammed the door behind her.

"Yes, Robin, of course you can come in. Have a seat, you look upset," he deadpanned.

"Why did I do that?!"

"You mean set up _your client_ with a pretty, attractive gal that he seems to be compatible with?"

" _Victoria_ ," she bit out.

"Victoria is what Ted pays us to do," he said firmly, tone booking no argument.

Robin didn't hear that part. "No, he pays _you_ to do that."

"And last I checked, you were on our payroll." Barney pushed the chair away from his computer and gave her a searching look as she paced back and forth in his office. "Pull yourself together."

"Pull myself together?" She stopped and gaped at him. "You expect me to not feel this way?" She slammed her palms on his desk, leaning forward to try and intimidate him. Barney didn't even blink. "I just set up the guy that I want with someone else!"

"And I repeat, pull yourself together." He stood up now, hands instinctively buttoning up his suit. "You're his _wingman_. I suggest you get over your feelings for him and fast. In this business, you can't afford to get too attached to a client."

She shot him a dark look and straightened up. "Speaking from experience?" she asked derisively.

"You could say that," he replied neutrally. "Now get out of my office, and don't come back until you've calmed down."

She stood still for a moment, eyes not wavering from his hard, blue gaze, before turning on her heel and storming out, complete with slamming the door behind her.

The intercom pinged and James's voice came through, a metallic echo to his words. "Maybe we shouldn't have hired her." 

Barney sighed and leaned against his desk.

**Your feet will continue to trouble you today, although you won't be quite able to put your finger on what's wrong. You haven't been that flexible in years.**

"Marshall and Lily broke up," Ted said flatly.

"Excuse me, I have a meeting to go to," Barney said calmly, standing up and striding out of the room.

Ted just looked confused. "...You forgot your everything?"

 **Let the golden sun of happiness burn away your inner fog of disgruntlement. Remember: gruntled people are more fun!**

Lily opened her door and saw Barney.

"Bar--"

He held up a hand. "Lily, I have seen my fair share of relationships. I have seen people in lust, in love, in hate, and in heartbreak. I have seen couples come together, be together, fall apart, and break up. I have seen everything in the cycle of relationships between people. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful. So believe me when I say that you and Marshall are _it_ , that you two have found something so rare in each other that other people can only _dream_ of having so much as a fraction of what you two have. Don't do this." 

She looked up at him, stunned from his speech. Then, her eyes welled up and she burst into sobs. Tentatively, Barney reached forward and gave her a hug. 

"It's okay," he murmured soothingly. "This suit's the one I use to comfort crying women anyway."

**Sometimes success is just showing up-not as often as being the son of the company president, but sometimes.**

Robin and Ted excitedly told him some story about "making rain" (Barney was entirely too distracted by how dirty that sounded, and also by how off of their initial estimates this quarter's revenues were shaping up to be) and smiled and giggled at each other, fingers intertwined. 

Robin swore up and down that she'd continue to be the best wingwoman in the biz. Barney didn't have the heart to tell her that she's currently the only one he knew of. 

Later, Barney and James were having dinner together and Barney tried to recount the story as best as he could recall. "So apparently Ted just shows up outside of her apartment, soaking wet and--"

"Tom and I are adopting a baby," James blurted out.

Barney froze. "A baby?" And his voice went all high-pitched with surprise. "There's going to be a baby?"

James nodded, grin threatening to crack his face in two. "Yeah, there's going to be a baby."

Barney stood and enveloped his brother in a tight hug. "Congratulations," he said, and blinked back happy tears.

**Your desire to join the winning team will take you in a strange new direction when you decide to fight on the side of lung cancer.**

"Shut up, I'm buying everyone a drink," Barney said without preamble as he (in one smooth movement, no less) picked up a chair from another table, rotated it, and slid into it. It's rather impressive, he thought, and his grin was bright and shiny and face-cracking. 

"Awesome," Marshall commented, and Barney's not sure if it's the free drink or the all-in-the-wrist move he just pulled. 

"I know," he preened, taking a complement as face value. He signaled the waitress over, and she gave him an _I'll be right there_ kind of gesture that he shrugged off.

"Not that," Lily interjected, effectively shutting him down. "They've told each other that they love each other." Ted and Robin looked suitably embarrassed, and Barney's eyebrows rose far enough to disappear into his hairline.

"The L-word? Really?" He shot Robin a curious look.

Ted beamed. "Yeah." 

"Well," Barney said, and stood. He went to the bar, ordered everyone's usual drinks, and brought them back on a tray that he set down in the center of the table. "To Robin and Ted."

"Hear, hear," they all chorused and were about to drink when Barney cried out, "Wait!"

Robin raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"To Match Me, too! We just had our best quarter ever."

The others grinned, easy smiles and happy expressions. "Congratulations," they offered, clinking glasses again and taking long drinks. 

Barney sipped at his scotch and surveyed them over the rim of his glass and smiled wide enough for dimples.

**You’re nearly at the end of the longest, most difficult spirit-journey of your life. Be prepared for a difficult and boring period of spirit-unpacking.**

"You two broke up?!"

"Shh!" They hissed in unison, eyeing a slowly revolving Marshal and Lily in the middle of the dance floor.

"Oh whatever, those two are completely wrapped up in each other for now. Haven't you two ever been to a wedding?" He shook himself. "Bigger picture: what?!"

Ted and Robin exchanged glances. "It was mutual," Robin started, hands picking at the napkin in her lap.

"We both want different things," Ted added.

"And it's not that we don't love each other--"

"Because we do, and that's why it was hard--"

"But we're very different people, and we have very different long-term goals."

"It's better that we end now when it's good than later when it's ugly," Ted finished. 

Barney nodded, face solemn. "That's what I'd tell my other clients," he admitted.

They sat in silence for a minute. For a few minutes. For a little while.

"I guess I'll have to assign you a new wingman, Ted." Barney smirks a little. "How about you get the best in the biz for a while?"

"Oh, is Davy back?"

"Da--what, no, I meant _me_ , Ted. Me!"

"Oh, okay. Yeah, you'll do, too."

Robin pouted. "What about me?"

Barney raised an eyebrow. "You're still in training. I took you off of the program when you _started sleeping with your client_."

"He's got a point," Ted interjected, taking a long drink of his champagne.

"Fine, but I still want a new client!"

**There are, in fact, good and evil twins, but a greater range of moral choices is available to you as a sextuplet.**

"Trudy...and her friend?"

Ted nodded vigorously.

Barney beamed. "Ted, my friend, you are about to ride the legendary tricycle. The tricycle is--"

"Okay, just this once, can you skip the speech and _tell me what to do_ like right now?"

Barney paused. "Yeah, okay, I can do that." And he began to describe exactly what Ted should expect beyond four boobs, six legs, and three tongues. 

Later, after he'd successfully thrown Ted into the whirlpool of a potential threesome, Barney chose to call Robin on his way home. It was a breezy summer night in New York, and he didn't much feel like walking home alone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." 

"Boss?" He heard her shift, the sound of sheets rustling in the background entirely too familiar. "What's up?"

"Just felt like talking, is all."

"Oh. Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

"Well, first, how's Argentina?"

"Argentina is absolutely beau--"

"Yeah, don't really care. Who's Male Gale and why is he in every single one of your photos from the trip?"

**It turns out that Andy Warhol overestimated the duration of your fame by about 14 and a half minutes.**

They all watched in horrified fascination as a sixteen-year-old Robin told everyone to "come and play, throw ev'ry last care away," and then go to the mall. Except she was singing in a bedazzled jean jacket. Barney wasn't quite sure what the worst/best part was.

"I didn't even know they _had_ consumerism in Canada," Barney muttered.

Robin punched him in the arm. "I hate you."

"Look on the bright side," Ted started, lips twitching. "It could be a lot worse."

"It could be porn!" Marshall added, eyes not leaving the screen.

"I _wish_ it was porn," Robin muttered.

"Ooh, look at you shake it, girl!" Lily cheered.

"I hate all of you," Robin grumbled. 

Barney handed her a beer.

**All of the evidence will soon point to you, as will all of the witnesses, each and every one of the jurors, and most of the screaming chimpanzees.**

It's Ted who spotted her, Barney will say later. Blonde and tall and with a megawatt smile, Stella was stunning and friendly and funny. Barney's a little disappointed that he failed as a wingman. He's out of practice, was his excuse.

But then he pulled his have-you-met-Ted trick and it's all just magic from there. This was totally Barney's favorite part. (James told him that it showed, given that their files sometimes sounded like they were written by a 12-year-old girl. Barney always raised an eyebrow and reminded James that it wasn't _Barney_ who read all the _Twilight_ books and _liked them_ , but that's neither here nor there.) 

So Barney leaned back against the bar and watched as two peoples' paths suddenly started running parallel.

**The stars indicate that you have no impulse control, which explains why you’re already on the other side of the room eating cake.**

His lips were chapped and his mouth felt dry, but the swipe of her wet, warm tongue against his and the silkiness of her hair in his hands and her fingers pulling at his tie made everything seem okay.

"Touch me," she demanded breathily, breaking the kiss long enough to pull her shirt over her head. She stood, hands wrapped around his tie and dragged him into her bedroom, falling backwards onto the bed and bringing him with her.

His mouth slanted against hers, knuckles dragging along her side and nestling into her hip. She tore at his clothes, buttons popping off in her haste to undress him, eager to get him down to skivvies and then nothing else. 

Suddenly he stopped, grabbing her hands and pulling her away from him. "Wait, wait. _Robin_ , wait. You don't want to do this. You just had a serious case of revertigo and--"

She flipped him over so that she straddled him, knocking the wind out of him. "Just shut up, Boss. If I wanted to talk about my feelings, I would have asked Ted over." 

He clenched his jaw for a second. She took advantage of his distraction to get his fly open and the rest of his shirt undone as well. (She was nothing if not efficient.) She moved to curl her fingers into the waistband of his boxers when he pulled her hands away again, fingers encircling her wrists. 

She made a noise of disapproval. "What?" It was barely a question.

He searched her face for a long moment. "What do you want from me, Robin?"

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and straightened. In quick movements, she unhooked her bra and threw it across the room. She leaned forward until her chest was flush against his. "I want you to make me feel better, boss." She kissed him firmly. "Barney." 

He was still for a moment. Then, he moved.

 **Excellent day to sneak.**

They both stared at the ceiling, the gold light of the morning making this decision seem a hell of a lot worse.

"You know," he started conversationally. "I usually advise my clients against doing stupid shit like this." 

She nodded. "Leads to messy aftermaths..."

"Can destroy existing positive relationships..."

"Like losing a good friend."

He turned to her. "You think of me as a friend?" he asked quietly.

She continued nonplussed. "And then the effects radiate into your circle of mutual friends..."

He blew out a breath. "Everyone has to pick sides..."

"It's ugly," she concluded, and sighed. "We can't tell anyone." 

"No, we can't."

"I mean," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "You're kind of my boss." 

Silence.

"Shit, you're my _boss_. Oh God, I can't believe I just slept with my boss."

"You're certainly not the first employee I've slept with," he muttered quietly. 

She punched him in the arm. "Shut up, you're not helping." 

"I'm not helping?" He sat up and shot her a dark look. "You're the one who was all, 'Don't let go just yet, boss,' with your big, weepy eyes. 'Make me feel better, boss,' you said, and you ran your hands all over me! What the hell was I supposed to do?!" He ran a hand through his hair. "Christ, Robin, I'm human, too." 

Her expression turned stony. "The second my feet touch the floor, we act like this didn't happen." 

"Fine," he replied, equally cold. 

***

"You're fired," Ted said coldly. "Don't ever come near me again."

Barney watched Ted walk away with his one good eye blinking rapidly. _Fuck_.

***

Later, when she completely killed the ruse, and Barney was nursing a black eye (and bruised balls, but he wouldn't admit that anytime soon) thanks to Ted, he stumbled into his office and spotted James in the lowered lights. 

"Save it," he said curtly, and hobbled to a chair across from James.

"You slept with our experimental wingwoman."

Barney groaned. "It wasn't like I went over there intending to sleep with her!"

"You seriously jeopardized our company, Barney! How could you have been so irresponsible?"

"And I'm telling you, it _just happened_. I wasn't even pursuing her. You know how I'm like when I do that."

"Whatever," James said, and stood. From there, he could see the shiner Barney sported and the heartbroken expression he wore. "Oh, little brother..." He moved around the desk and gave Barney a hug. 

"He punched me in the balls," Barney muttered. "He shouldn't even _be_ jealous. They haven't dated in a year."

James laughed quietly. "Bee, you're too soft-hearted."

 **Your life has always resembled something out of a movie, which explains the scrolling end credits this week.**

The secretaries were talking. And the cleaning people. And the building security staff. 

Rumor was that Mr. Stinson, Blonde Version, had hardly left his office in the last month. Cleaning staff insisted that he was living out of his office, the sofa doubling as a bed. Security mentioned, offhand, that Blonde Stinson had barely left the building, citing only four entrances and exits in the last month.

The secretaries insisted those were to simply gather clothes. 

James, meanwhile, was fretting. The quarter was set to end, and it had been _very_ disappointing indeed. He was not looking forward to hearing from the shareholders, even though he and Barney owned 70% of the company between them. 

He sighed and set the file down. Barney was the last one out and the first one in the office every day. James was pretty sure Barney wasn't going home, wasn't going out, wasn't going _anywhere_. It scared him.

"You've got to snap out of it," he said suddenly to his little brother. Blue eyes met brown before flicking back to the screen.

"Our numbers are down," Barney stated, scanning through the report.

"Barney. Come on. There are other clients and other wingwomen out there. Robin was a test case anyway. We can find someone else, and we have more than enough people to take Ted's place."

"Maybe we could cut our operating costs? Turn off the lights, our computers, unplug key electronics?"

James was already tiring of Barney's stonewalling. "Barnabus Zechariah Stinson, _look at me_." It was their mother's voice, and it snapped Barney to attention like a beautiful woman. 

" _What?_ "

"Get yourself together, man. This company is falling apart around you. We need you to be on your game." 

Barney stared at him silently. "Okay," he said after a while. "Tomorrow. I'll be okay tomorrow."

"Good. And promise me you'll eat something and _go home_ tonight."

Barney blushed. "Randall tell you that?"

"The man didn't design security for the DoD for nothing." They shared a quick smile at the joke before sobering once more.

Barney nodded. "I promise. I'll leave when you do."

After Barney had boarded the elevator later that night, the staff cheered.

 **You’ll be awarded the Nobel Prize For Not Paying Attention And Letting The Damn Rice Burn Again this week.**

Barney was interviewing a potential client to take over Ted's suddenly vacant spot in the rank and files of his clientele when the most recent executive assistant came in (a very sweet older woman named Heloise who brought in butter cookies now and again) and whispered the news to him.

Barney didn't hesitate. He stood, apologized, and ran out of the door. 

He jogged uptown, the traffic too crazy and the buses too slow. Ted was in an accident, Ted was hurt!

The words echoed in his head like a mantra, and he jogged in time to the rhythm of them.

Suddenly, before he expected it, the hospital loomed before him. He stopped to catch his breath, then straightened up, adjusted his tie, and took a step off of the pavement. 

The next thing he remembered was pain, followed by an all-consuming blackness.

**You’ll finally experience true and unconditional love this week, thanks to a partially open window shade.**

"I think I'm in love with Robin." 

James shut his computer and looked at him. "Okay."

Barney twitched. "Okay? That's all you have to offer, an 'okay' and a sympathetic look? No wonder we're having recessionary quarters!"

"First, we're having crap quarters because no one has money but people still want love. Second, you know just as well as I do that I'm _trying_ to get you to talk. Bee, when have I ever not been there for you?"

Barney sighed and sank into a sofa cushion. "I know, I know, and I'm sorry. What the hell am I supposed to do? I didn't think sleeping with her would make me--make me catch this!"

James tapped his fingers together. "So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing," Barney replied after a long silence. "I'm not going to do anything, and eventually this will just go away."

"That sounds goo--wait, what the hell are you saying?"

"James, she _works for us_. And I don't even know if it's love-love or just the painkillers and the threat of death." Barney sighed and rubbed the heels of his palms against closed eyes. "I'm not going to do anything until I know for sure - for _damn_ sure - that this isn't a phase."

James raised an eyebrow. "A phase? You haven't been interested in a woman for more than her breasts in about a decade."

"I know, and I was doing _so well_ , too."

"Isn't a matchmaker who's wholly uninterested in actually falling in love a contradiction?"

Barney smiled humorlessly. "Those who can't, teach, James."

 **If you’ve ever regretted not pursuing a career in bullfighting, this week may bring an accidental chance to start over.**

Barney was already in the bar, seated, when she barreled in, ordered a double shot of whiskey and fell into the seat across from him.

"Sorry I'm late," she said shakily. "I kind of got fired from my network."

Barney nearly spat out his drink. "What?"

"Yeah, I'm currently lacking in a day job." She her smile was watery, and when Wendy brought by the double, Robin downed it in one gulp and signaled for another.

"Robin, I'm so sorry."

She waved him off and accepted the second double. "It's fine, it's okay. I'll just get another job, right? Right! It'll be awesome. I'll be totally fine." She knocked back the second double and was about to signal for another when Barney grabbed her hand.

"Maybe save some for the other patrons, huh?" He smiled a little lopsidedly at her. "You want a chaser?"

"No, I fucking want to get drunk," she replied coldly.

"Well, I'm not going to let you do that." He moved, sliding into her side of the booth. "If you get drunk, I can't have you here tonight."

"Great, so I'll be fired from two jobs today. Awesome."

"Hey, who said anything about letting go of anyone? You're the best damn wingwoman in the biz--"

"I'm the only one," she muttered.

"James wasn't supposed to tell you that," he continued cheerily, not missing a beat. "But you're still the best wingwoman around, and I'm not letting my prize asset out of my payroll." He ran his fingers along her arm. "You've got a job with me for as long as you want it," he added softly. 

Her face changed, shifting from petulant to surprised to sad and suddenly she was crying into his shoulder, arms circled around his torso. 

"Shh, it's okay," he said, rubbing her back. "You've got to suck it up, Scherbatsky. We don't have a very good track record when you're kind of drunk and weepy."

She laughed into his shoulder, voice still thick from crying. 

He cracked a smile. "C'mon, go home. You can have the night off."

She pulled away and shook her head. "No way. I'll just be miserable all by myself at home wondering what the hell I'm going to do with myself now."

He gently lifted her arms away from around his torso and held her hands between his own. "I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do--"

"Good," she said, batting her hands away. "Because I'm definitely not leaving."

He huffed a laugh. "Then you'd better go redo your makeup. You look like the bride of Frankenstein." 

**You’re not the kind of person who constantly goes around saying the sky is falling, making you ill-equipped to cope with the events of this Thursday.**

"So you two are going to be..."

"Friends with benefits," Ted crowed. "Dude, you must bump this." Beside him, Marshall nodded his agreement.

"No, no, no, no!" Barney supplied, waving his hands dismissively. "Ted! As your matchmaker--"

"Shh, keep your voice down, people just think you're my friend!"

Barney rolled his eyes. "Fine. As you friend and _paid relationship counselor_ , may I point out how being friends-with-benefits doesn't help you in the long-term? You're just going to fall back into patters the two of you had during your relationship, and you've both grown so much since then." 

Ted took a long drink from his beer. "Maybe, Barney, but for now anything is better than us constantly fighting about stupid, ridiculous things." He took another drink. "So did I tell you about how we did it instead of fighting about dishes?"

Barney groaned and dropped his head to the table.

***

"Barney? What are you doing here?"

The lanky blonde brandished a feather duster and a sponge in separate hands. "If it's cleaning that's required to keep you two from backsliding in your relationship, then clean I shall!"

"You don't have--"

"I do have to, Ted! Because you're my client, and Robin's my employee and I care about you both very much," he said quickly, dusting the lamp. "If this is what it takes, then I'll do it."

Ted watched the whirlwind that was Barney bustling around the small living room of his apartment. Dusting (and dishes) in Hugo Boss was a sight, that was for damn sure.

Barney cracked open a window and strode into the tiny kitchen, shedding his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves along the way. "Dishes!" 

Ted raised an eyebrow at Barney's seeming enthusiasm. "Dishes?"

Barney nodded. "Growing up, James would do laundry and cook, while I would clean and do dishes." His back to Ted, he lingered in the memory. "I'd have my hands in those bright yellow gloves, two sizes too big for me at the time, up to my elbows - literally, 'cause I didn't hit my growth spurt until high school - in sudsy water and ceramic." He huffed a laugh and Ted heard the water slosh in the stopped sink.

Ted figured the direct approach was most effective here. He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, careful to avoid Old Shocky. "Barney?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you in love with Robin?"

Barney dropped a dish. Fortunately, it was Corelle, so it barely chipped. "What? That's preposterous!"

Ted grinned. "You totally are!"

Barney pulled off the gloves and strode out of the kitchen. "You're wrong, Ted!"

Ted practically cackled. "I'm not gonna get mad! Just admit it!" 

Barney shrugged on his suit jacket and about-faced to stare Ted in the eye. "No, I'm not, no, no, I'm not, No, I'm not, no!" Barney fumbled for words for a moment before straightening. "Good day, sir!"

"Whatev--"

"I said good day!" And he stormed out of the apartment. Behind him, Ted shook his head and smiled. Then, he headed back into the kitchen to finish doing dishes.

 **You’ll laugh in the face of danger this week, but in a way where it’ll be obvious you’re just masking your fear.**

When she had left him, he had been a sullen, still figure staring impassively at the phone lit by a single desk lamp in his suddenly suffocating office. 

"Go," he had said quietly. "No matter what happens, you won't have to deal with it until tomorrow morning." At her expression, he had smiled ruefully. "One of us should get some sleep tonight, right?"

So she had left, eyes staring out at the passing lights the entire cab ride over, only to sit awake in the living room of her tiny apartment. She held her giant glass of wine in her shaking hands, staring into the depths of the dark red liquid. So far, no answers had revealed themselves, but hope sprang eternal. 

Her phone buzzed, and she started. "Hello?"

"You still awake?" came the tight voice on the other end.

"Boss? Yeah."

"Good. I'll be right there." And without another word, he hung up.

A few moments later, there was a knock at her door, the taps hard and staccato and loud in the silence of her apartment. Setting down the glass of wine, she checked the peephole before opening the door wide open. 

Barney stood before her, hair in disarray and suit slightly wrinkled. His tie was undone, shirt half untucked, and his expression was hard. "Can I come in?"

Silently, she stepped back and gestured for him to step inside. He slipped into her dimly lit apartment and she shut and bolted the door before leaning against it for a moment. 

They stood in silence for a moment, his back to her. Finally, it was too much for her. She pushed off of the door and took a step toward him. "Well?"

He stiffened, and her danger signalers went on high alert. Then, slowly, he turned around.

He was grinning.

She gasped.

"We did it," he said, beaming, taking a step toward her. "We fought off their takeover attempt!"

"Are you serious?!"

"Yes. Our second-biggest stakeholder had an eleventh hour change of heart, and with him came another 15% of the company. It was enough, just barely."

She grabbed him by the lapels. "Boss-- _Barney_. I...this is incredible."

He laughed, the tiredness apparent in the background of his voice. "You're telling me. My company, Robin. It's still mine. Mine and James's." He shook his head disbelievingly. "I can't believe it." 

She smoothed out the front of his suit jacket idly, letting her fingers run over the material, nails skimming silently over stripes and seams. "I'm so happy for you, but you could have waited until after sunrise."

The manic glee on his face melted away into something more subdued. "Yeah, it could have waited," he replied quietly, fingers spreading across her hips, rubbing up her sides over the silken material of her pajamas. One hand came up and brushed the back of his hand along her jaw, fingers tangling in her hair. 

Her eyes fell closed and she sighed, a long breath blowing past her lips. 

"I could have waited," he repeated more quietly. "But when I heard the news and after James and I had hugged, well..." The hand still at her hip reached around to pull her to him. "All I wanted to do was tell you. Just tell you." 

"Me?" she asked softly, eyes large in the dark light. Her arms wrapped around his waist, hands sliding around and up his back.

"You," he replied, not breaking eye contact. "Only you."

**Being in a relationship means having to make certain sacrifices. Keep slaying those goats to prevent your wife from leaving you.**

He dragged her all over town, a crazy proposal on his lips every time, and she cocked an eyebrow and went along with it. Every now and then, she dragged him.

Sometimes they did stupid romantic things.

> One night, he showed up at her place on a Tuesday night at 1:30 in the morning with a bottle of champagne, a blanket, and a very official-looking set of keys in hand. He told her to get dressed, maybe bring a jacket, and _hurry up_ or else he was leaving without her. She rolled her eyes, grabbed her jacket on the way out, and bitched about being in pajamas outside of her apartment. He eyed her up and down, slowly, and she shivered under his gaze, blue eyes raking over her body like they were his hands. He smirked and said, "I don't mind," and she punched him in the arm. 
> 
> They drove to the Empire State Building and he snuck them in through a side entrance, the official-looking keys jangling in his hands. 
> 
> "Where the hell did you get those?"
> 
> "I know a guy, and he owes me _big_ ," he replied noncommittally. "Now c'mon, get in the elevator before we get caught." 
> 
> They padded silently into the dark elevator, only the emergency lights on. It gave the lift an eerie quality. Robin started at the deep shadows that his cheekbones created. He blinked and stared back at her. "Yes?" he said, half smirking, drawing the vowel out.
> 
> "Nothing, nothing." The elevator dinged and the doors opened, the observation deck also in low light. They bypassed the gift shop and Barney fumbled the keys in the lock to the outdoor deck. Then, the door swung open and they stepped out into the surprisingly chill night air. 
> 
> "Ta-daa," he said lamely. "I've always wanted to sneak out here at two-thirty in the morning. Ted said it was too romantic for two dudes, and James just gave me a look and told me to use it as a ploy." 
> 
> "So why didn't you?"
> 
> He mumbled something about stupid movies and his mother and she laughed and laughed and wrapped her arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his heart.

Other times, they did crazy ridiculous things. 

> She texted him that she was in a car on her way to his place and that he needed to be dressed in civvies - "Civilian clothes, boss," she had said one night, finger poking him in the chest dramatically, "Civvies are _not_ suits, especially not ones made by Hugo Boss." - by the time she called. 
> 
> So when he greeted her outside of his building dressed in a gray t-shirt and faded jeans, she looked reasonably impressed. "You dress down nice, boss."
> 
> "Yeah, whatever, just tell me where we're going."
> 
> "Patience, young grasshopper."
> 
> They drove. Robin pulled up at what looked like a skate park, and Barney couldn't resist a dig. "A skate park? What are we, in 1997?"
> 
> She rolled her eyes. "Not a skate park, a paintball range." She flashed a toothy grin at him. "The owner owes me a favor. You ready to go one-on-one?"
> 
> "Scherbatsky, I'm always ready." He tilted his chin up challengingly. "Besides, I'm pretty sure my laser-tag skills will transfer." 
> 
> "Oh, you're on."
> 
> Later, he ducked behind a low wall, trying to shake off the recoil of the paintball gun, pissed that he'd forgotten that light-guns didn't kick back at you after you shot them. Still, his roll-step stealth running kept him one step ahead of her, but she was quickly growing wise. 
> 
> He readied a paint balloon and tested its heft. Then, silently counting off, he lobbed it over the wall and rushed around the wall, only to see no one there.
> 
> "What the--"
> 
> _Ftthp! Ftthp!_
> 
> He felt twin stings against his shoulder and side. "Scherbatsky!"
> 
> Paint-smeared and grinning wickedly, she appeared from her hiding space with her gun braced against her shoulder. She looked _hot_. 
> 
> His lips twitched and, without warning, he tossed aside his gun and tackled her into a stack of bales of hay. Her gun skittered out of her hands, and she let out an _oof_ as the breath was knocked out of her. "You've put on weight."
> 
> He pulled away slightly, hay sticking to his paint-covered arms. "You're just pissed that I bum-rushed you."
> 
> "Pretty much," she admitted, eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled.
> 
> Carefully, he pushed back her hair from her face, fingers leaving smudges on her skin. He kissed her, the weight of him heavy and warm above her. She sighed contentedly into his mouth, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. (Well, and color the tips slightly purple from the paint.) He rolled them over so that she was on top of him, tongue sliding against hers. 
> 
> Later, she bitched him out about the sneak-attack paint-filled balloon. While the others laughed at her ire, he murmured quietly that she hadn't seemed to mind him washing it off of her later. 

Mostly, though, they awesomed all over the place and played tag-team wingman for Ted and Kevin, their newest client. 

Barney was pretty sure he had never been happier. 

**Late summer is a good time for you to step back and take stock of your life. Coincidentally, early fall is a good time to explore dignified methods of suicide.**

"Looks like business is going really well."

He ignored the way her hair cascaded over his shoulder as she leaned forward, and _especially_ ignored how her shampoo smelled. (Seriously, they've been together how long now?) "Yeah. I think we can hire another wingman." 

"You sure?" She turned to face him, perched on the edge of his desk. Idly, he brushed his fingers along her leg. "That's a pretty big decision." 

"Yeah, I think it's time. We've got four new clients and I think Stuart is planning on proposing to Claudia soon." 

"Four new clients?" Her eyebrows rose, though he suspected that was more because he was trying to finagle his hand up her skirt and less about the tally of their client roster.

"Which means we need another wingwoman." 

"That sounds goo--wait, a wing _woman_?"

He grinned cheekily at her. "Well, our first one was such a success..."

She poked him in the chest. "Your first one was special." She huffed and straightened, folding her arms across her chest. "What does James think?"

"He suggested this wingwoman be specialized in lesbian relationships." Barney looked thoughtful. "That _would_ open up a new customer segment..."

"Plus you wouldn't be able to sleep with her," she teased.

"It wouldn't stop me from trying," he only half-joked.

She punched him in the arm. "Jerk." 

He rubbed his shoulder, making exaggerated "I'm in so much pain" faces. When she rolled her eyes, he dropped the act and leaned forward, fingers intertwining with hers. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, then shifted his grip and pulled her toward him. She pushed off of the desk and took a step to him, a small smile pulling at her lips. She straddled him in the chair then, skirt rising indecently high. His hands went from her fingers to her waist, thumbs resting on her hip bones. 

"Are you jealous? Worried?" One hand rose to cup her face, the pad of his thumb running along her cheekbone, then her lower lip. 

"No," she scoffed, shifting in the chair.

"Idiot," he said softly, pulling her face close to his. "Why go out for burgers when you've got steak at home?" 

Her lips curled into a smirk. "I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to steal lines from Paul Newman." 

"Doesn't make it any less true," he retorted, fingers ghosting over her collarbone, down her arm. 

"Really?" She grinned widely, hands under his suit jacket and on his shoulders. His arms wrapped around her waist until there wasn't any space between them, faces a breath apart. 

"Yeah," he breathed and kissed her fully, words a murmur on his lips. "Yes, absolutely, yes."

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Okay, so I totally blame this on the opening bit for VH1's _Tough Love_. Steven Ward, the host, says in the opening titles that he "understands how women think." Given that I, as a female, am often baffled as to what women are thinking myself, I thought, "A man who understands how women think? He would be formidable, indeed." And lo! This fic was born. Because Barney, at this point, probably "gets" women more than he realizes, hilariously offensive comments on the show notwithstanding.
> 
> 2\. So the bolded phrases are from [Humor Scope](http://www.humorscope.com/), which is a hilarious parody of a daily horoscope. Why horoscopes, you ask? Because, horoscopes have a long connection to matchmaking, historically. For example, Hindu astrologers are still called upon to determine whether the stars deem a match "auspicious" or not.
> 
> 3\. Yeah, okay, everyone is a little OOC. Whatever, this is an AU anyway.
> 
> 4\. Oh! So the reason that Barney and James go from owning 70% of the company to resisting a takeover bid by the skin of their teeth is that they issued a lot of stock to raise capital, lowering their proportional ownership significantly.
> 
> 5\. "All the best parts" format, as you've probably figured out, means that there's not really transitions. I just write the parts of the story that I want to write, and to hell with the how-did-we-get-here of it all. It's like _The Princess Bride_ , only not also a movie.


End file.
